Left Behind, But Not Forgotten
by Poetic Folly
Summary: Demyx watched silently as his friend climbed the fame he so deserved. But he'd be damned if he'd stay silent while watching the same person fallout of fame just as fast. Rated T for language. Dexion/Zemyx. However you see it.


**Author's Note: Wow, but it's been forever since I updated anything new... Hakuna Matata; I'll update Article soon... I, uh, think. I prefer oneshots; so much easier and faster... no need to draw everything out...Anywho; I'm going to start a little series of fanfics, all inspired by quotes I find around the 'net. :) Ignore any mistakes, please; it's late, and I don't feel like going back to fix the mistakes I just KNOW are there... and they're all my own, as I don't have a beta or anything.**

**Quote: Money and power only last the hour, but friendship and love withstand the sky above. - Source, Unknown.**

**Standard Disclaimer's apply here. There's no way a poor lil' average citizen like me could own something as awesome as Kingdom Hearts... or Disney... or Square Enix... or... well, you get the point. :D**

**Summary: Demyx would watch silently as his closest friend would gain the fame he deserved. But he'd be damned if he'd stay silent when he watched the same person fall out of fame just as quickly. **

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He watched silently as his best friend suddenly gained the power, the fame, the fortune; he deserved it all, and they both knew it. But he himself wasn't smart, so he stood back, watching and waiting patiently. Zexion would come back for him; he always did, just as Demyx had always done for him.

But it never happened. Demyx would always keep his cell with him, just in case he called. He'd always have the TV on, just in case Zexion happened to say something relevant to him. He would wait patiently at places where Zexion was supposed to show, and even when he caught a glimpse of his best friend, Zexion never saw him. And Demyx never knew if it was his fault... or if Zexion simply didn't want him any more. He wouldn't think, even to himself, that Zexion had ever _needed_ him. No, no; it was Demyx who needed, Demyx who wanted. He may have been an idiot on most things, but he knew people pretty well... and Zexion was simply _used_ to Demyx; he was a constant he had simply grown used to hearing babble in the background about nonsense things.

Demyx grew quieter, stopped going out as much. He stopped eating as much, simply because he wasn't hungry. His grades at college, the college he'd worked so hard to get into so he could stay with Zexion (he'd impressed him there when he showed him the acceptance letter!), dropped. He stopped doing the work, only sitting quietly in class and dutifully taking some notes every now and again. He wasn't depressed, he knew; he'd been depressed before, although he'd done the same thing then as he was doing now: He kept up the facade of happiness, still smiling and laughing and joking with friends.

But he wasn't happy. And his smiles were starting to falter before he could turn and hide his face.

His friends watched worriedly for the both of them. On one hand, they were proud of Zexion; he had always worked so hard, to prove his theories, to gain the recognition. But even if they pretended, for Demyx's sake, not to see how fast his smiles crumbled, how dulled his eyes were slowly growing, they saw. They saw, and they didn't know what to do. Some of them said they needed to just sit back and wait; Zexion would come around, he would fix everything; he wasn't the type to leave ends loose like this. But others said they wanted, quite frankly, to beat the shit out of him and force him to see what he was doing.

Demyx wasn't happy. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't quite keep things the way he wanted them to be, with him working easily and happily, concentrating on music, and his friends all happy... and Zexion, standing beside him, rolling his eyes when Demyx asked another stupid question with an obvious answer.

Demyx would look in the mirror, and see... nothing. It was not that he thought himself to be nothing; not at all. He knew he had his good points, and he would wait to see what he was supposed to be doing. But he literally saw... nothing. It was like he wasn't standing there; he would just see whatever was behind him.

Demyx would watch his friends, he would smile and laugh, and feel nothing. He would joke, and laugh so hard he would collapse on the floor, holding his stomach. But he wasn't feeling a thing. He kept hoping, again and again. But he grew only more numb.

Then one day, he was in class, and he just... couldn't take it any more. He was so tired, and he was so sick of hoping against hope. So he simply didn't get up from his seat. He just stared ahead, still as could be, eyes gazing blankly at whatever was in front of him. After an hour or so of doing this, he closed his eyes, and slumped in his seat, sighing. Standing, he shouldered his bag slowly, and made his way out of the classroom. He moved sluggishly, as if in a dream. He vaguely remembered someone stopping him, asking him if he was all right. He remembered looking at them blankly, and frowning slightly.

He raised his hand, before dropping it. Then he smiled slightly, a look of content covering his face as his eyes fluttered shut, before falling forwards in a dead faint. But he could've sworn he felt arms encircle him, keeping him up; that he had seen Zexion in front of him, looking startled and worried and hurt. Hurt... He shouldn't be hurt... never...never...

That was Demyx's job, to shield Zexion from all the things people had said about him. Demyx's job, to one day show up bruised and bloody, and sheepishly brush off Zexion's concern, saying he needed to pick his fights better. Demyx's job, to take every word and punch meant for Zexion, so Zexion would never need to know, never need to see, just how much people disliked him. After all... everyone loved Demyx. But not many liked Zexion.

Tired eyes slowly dragged themselves open, staring dully at the white, blank ceiling above him.

"They tell me you've stopped." A low, quiet voice to his right. He turned his head, eyes widening slightly at the sight of Zexion sitting in the chair, watching him with a small frown on his face. "Stopped?" Demyx's own voice was quieter then he remembered.

Zexion nodded.

"Stopped. Stopped eating. Stopped doing the work in class. Stopped playing your music. Stopped... being Demyx." His voice held just the faintest note of accusation, to which Demyx closed his eyes, turning his back to face the ceiling.

"I eat. I do the work. I play. I'm Demyx. How can I stop being Demyx?" Demyx asked, trying to for a note of humor. He tried to smile, but it fell, and he let it. "Good question. Normally, I'd say you can't. That one would simply change, and become a new version of themselves. But you can't change. You're Demyx. And don't lie to me; you know I can see right through it." His voice was harsher.

Demyx sighed silently. "Everyone...changes, Ze. Everyone. You did. I have. We change, in order to adapt." He only spoke in a more formal manner when he was angry.

"I? How have I changed?" Zexion's surprise was clear; he looked taken aback and startled when Demyx looked. Demyx tried to smile. "The Zexxy I know... would call me, to make sure I hadn't fallen and hurt myself. The nerd I know... would check in once in a while, using the excuse I couldn't be allowed alone, because I was sure to get into trouble. You know, it was never me that got into trouble... I could've gone through high school without one single fight. Not get hurt once; that would've been nice." He mused softly.

Zexion started, staring at him. "But you – you always said..." He trailed off, looking confused.

Demyx paused, before slowly sitting up. He waved away Zexion's help when he started to lean forward, choosing to settle on his own. He wasn't helpless, after all.

He looked at Zexion, and shrugged one shoulder; it was an imitation of Zexion's own shrug. "I never really got into fights. Those were meant for you. But I took 'em instead, so you wouldn't be bothered." Zexion made an odd sound, stiffening in his chair. "You were always busy, and working really hard on some project or other. I just made sure they didn't damage my ears or my hands; that was the deal. They didn't touch either of those, and they could hit and yell at me whenever they wanted, in return for leaving you alone. I didn't mind. I've never minded. But then one day, you just had to get your recognition... had to get your fame... and instead of taking me along, you just forgot about me." Demyx turned to stare out the window.

"You weren't supposed to forget about me. I know you don't need me... you've just put up with me... but I still... I guess I expected you to at least feel obligated. But you just left me there. An' I tried, so, so hard, to not let it get to me. I tried to stop myself from getting depressed again... but I got a little less happy each day. It's like... a little bit of it left every day, and went to you." He heard cloth rustle and ignored it, thinking Zexion was merely uncomfortable with all this sentimental talk.

"Sorry, Ze. I don't mean to go on... I just... I missed you, you know? I... I missed you." His last words were a whisper, and he bit his lip, suddenly finding it hard to breath.

Then there was a dip in his bed from extra weight, and cool, pale, long fingers were gripping his chin and turning it gently. Zexion gazed at him, looking uncertain. "Demyx – De – you... why didn't you ever say anything?" Demyx smiled tiredly. "There's no reason why you can't be happy. You've worked really hard...and it's so silly..." he trailed off as Zexion's fingers tightened.

"Nothing about you is unimportant. Nothing, do you hear me?! And I'll kill anyone who says something is!" Zexion said harshly, eye flashing in anger. Demyx winced, nodding hastily. Zexion relaxed, before he suddenly slumped, leaning forwards to rest his head on Demyx's shoulder. "De... Dem... you – god, all of those times you showed up in my lab bruised and dirtied and hurt... I tried so hard to find out who was hurting you, but never could. That's why I checked in on you so often. You worried the hell out of me, you idiot!" He hissed, raising his head to glare at Demyx. Demyx had the grace to look slightly sheepish. "Sorry, Zexxy. Didn't mean to. But... hey, why are you here?" he suddenly asked, frowning.

Zexion wasn't supposed to be here. Ze was supposed to be away, so that De could be sad in peace, and not feel guilty for saying nothing.

Zexion was silent. "Axel finally called me. Said if I didn't get my sorry ass over to the college right then and there, meets being damned, he'd come and burn me alive. Publicly. Nude. And he'd die my hair an embarrassing shade of pink before he did so. And, as it's Axel, there's little reason to believe him to be lying... but when I said I was in the middle of a crucial experiment, he suddenly started going crazy, shouting into the phone about how you needed help, and, dammit, he was fucking terrified you were killing yourself, and—oh dear. I left the experiment in the middle of it... Vexen's going to be pissed." He suddenly remembered, looking mildly embarrassed.

Demyx stared at him, mouth gaping slightly. Zexion? Left in the middle of an _experiment_?! Since when did he do that, ever, for anyone?! This was the same person who once insisted on completing his experiment when his apartment was on fire! (Three guesses who accidentally started the fire, and the first two don't count.)

Zexion shook his head slightly to clear it. "Nevertheless. I, worried, left immediately, in my lab coat and goggles and gloves. I'm afraid I got a tad violent when Axel started scolding me, instead of immediately taking me to him. As I remember – I wasn't concentrating on it, really – I threatened to castrate him, burn him, and use quite a few other methods on him if he didn't take me to you _right then_. Of course, he insisted I take off my lab things, and would only then take me to you... Oh dear; I left those in the middle of the yard, as well..." He frowned slightly, while Demyx's mouth dropped further, eyes widening impossibly.

"I got there in time to see you snap out of that trance-like state you were in, stumble out of the classroom, look up at me, smile, and just managed to catch you. You have lost a lot of weight, you know." He commented, glaring at Demyx. Demyx merely ducked his head.

"Why didn't you... god, Demyx. Don't ever scare me like that again. Everyone loves you, De, but you're all I have, and I... I just so caught up in things, and one day blended into every other, and Vexen just insisted we continue with the experiments... we're so close... but I didn't realize how much time had passed. You know how I get in the lab, De; it's like you and your music. Days could go by and we'd think it an hour or so." His voice was twisting, choking slightly.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, do you hear me? Or – or – or I'll smash your sitar, burn your music after shredding it thoroughly, and will break every one of your CD's... and your iPod!" He threatened. "But don't you ever – don't you ever let yourself get like that! Call me, email me, burst into meetings and experiments if it's important, but don't you ever just hold back so I can get ahead! Everything... everything else is unimportant; you're the only thing that I need in my life. Science is a love of mine, yes. But you're the love of my life, not science. It's you I need. Science I only want." His voice dropped into a whisper as he looked away, fists clenching, eyes watering. He closed them, before turning back to face Demyx, suddenly looking determined. Ignoring Demyx's weak attempts at speech, he brought his hands up to cup Demyx's face, and paused.

But he bent down slightly (he _was_ sitting atop the man), and kissed him fiercely, mouth hungrily seeking the blond's. There was a moment where he felt absolutely terrified Demyx was going to push him away, reject him... but it was erased the moment he felt Demyx's hands begin to grip his shoulders, bringing him closer, lips hungrily pressing against his own. There was no need for speech, which was how Zexion preferred it; there was only two needy bodies pressed against each other, desperately trying to tell the other how much they loved them, missed them, wanted them; _needed_ them.

Zexion drew back slowly, breathing somewhat heavier, cheeks pink and lips glistening with saliva. He looked content, and sighed slightly, slowly lifting himself from the legs of Demyx and settling back in the chair beside the bed. Demyx still looked somewhat shocked, but he'd watched Zexion's actions, unable to take his eyes from the man. He slowly smiled. "I dunno... if that's what I get when you're angry, I think I should do it more often." he teased. Zexion relaxed, but glared lightly at him. "Idiot. I wasn't angry. I was scared."

Demyx merely smiled, and reached for his hand.

The next day Zexion came to Demyx's apartment, looking irritated but somewhat proud of himself. Vexen had fired him, and was apparently fixated on ruining Zexion's good name in science, claiming he was irresponsible and a bad scientist over all. And it would take years to pick up his reputation from where it lay shattered everywhere, but Zexion didn't care. He thought Demyx was worth it.

After all. The fame, the recognition; the money and power... they didn't, couldn't, last forever. But something like... well, whatever it was between Demyx and he? Well. He felt quite certain that it would outlast the sun.

And Demyx watched as his best friend suddenly fell out of fame just as fast as he'd climbed into it. But he wasn't silent this time. This time, whenever he heard anything about it, he would lash out at anyone putting Zexion down. This time, he would loudly complain that the country was definitely going to the dogs, if idiots like Vexen still were important while the real geniuses, like Zexion, merely roamed the streets. This time, he was very loud about it.

Besides. He never did like staying quiet anyway.


End file.
